


Telegram

by ChimaeraKitten



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Gen, No editing we die like mne, One Shot, a bunch of characters a are in relationships that aren't in the fic because Peggy thinks about them, are you supposed to tag Natasha Romanov or Natasha Romanova or Natalia Romanova, both literal and figurative telegrams, canon character death, gen because It's only mentioned canon ships and there isn't really any actually shipping, i can't tell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 21:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10749804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChimaeraKitten/pseuds/ChimaeraKitten
Summary: Five times Peggy Carter received a telegram, and one time someone received one about her.





	Telegram

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trashofalltrades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashofalltrades/gifts).



> Frog called me evil for writing this. Take that as you will.
> 
> Not all of the telegrams are literal telegrams, some of them are more like telegrams in the figurative sense. You'll see why.

1.

**1941**

Peggy watched the car outside and found she couldn’t breathe. A car like that could only mean one thing. The thing she’d feared ever since Michael got his orders. Oh god.

Oh god no.

_Michael._

Peggy felt like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Michael couldn’t be…

She managed to suck in a breath, but it sounded more like a sob. When had she last seen him? At the engagement party? Oh god. The things that she said… The things that _he_ said.

_“Don’t worry what other people think. You are meant to fight. Stop pretending to be someone that you’re not.”_

She thought of Fred, with his safe job and his plans for starting a family. How he’d scoffed when she mentioned the S.O.E. job. What she’d said to Michael when he questioned whether it was what she really wanted, or just Fred’s influence. What Fred would say to try to comfort her when he heard about Michael. The empty words he’d have for a woman he didn’t really know about a brother he’d barely met.

With the detached unreality of shock, Peggy thought, _You were right Michael. You were right all along._

2.

**1942**

“Telegram for Margaret Carter.”

Peggy couldn’t help that her heart leapt in her chest as she looked up at the telegram boy. _I don’t have anyone they’d send one for_. She reminded herself.

“That’s me.” She said. Orders. That was what it had to be. They were sending her out.

The boy passed her the telegram, gave a little half-salute, and then ran out the way he’d come in. She wondered who let him into the S.O.E. building.

She opened the telegram. _Let it be somewhere useful_. She thought. _Someplace that won’t be a waste._

Finally freeing the paper, she pulled it close to her face to read the words TRANSFER NOTICE across the top. Her eyes skipped down the page: …Strategic Scientific Reserve…Camp Lehigh New Jersey, under Colonel Phillips…

She blinked. There was no way she’d read that right. Why in the hell would they send her to _America_!?

She read the whole thing twice, trying to convince herself that there had to be some mistake. Someone interrupted her about half way through her third read.

“Oh Peggy! You got your orders?” The words came from Mira Schneider, the S.O.E. Agent who had bunked next to Peggy in training.

“They’re sending me to America.” Peggy said, unable to muster any emotion other than incredulity.

“America huh? Well, have fun seeing the sights!” Mira said with a sort of forced lightness.

Peggy thought knew the reason why Mira reacted that way. Mira had been recruited because she spoke fluent German. She was shipping out next week. She probably felt that Peggy was getting a cushy assignment in the states while the other S.O.E. agents did real work in France and Belgium and, in Mira’s case, Germany itself. Peggy couldn’t help but agree with her.

Only a slight sense of military discipline was keeping her from marching down to S.O.E. command and demanding a reassignment.

“Well,” She heard herself say, “Maybe I’ll get to France with this ‘Strategic Scientific Reserve’ unit.”

 

3.

**1945**

The call of “Telegram!” outside Peggy’s London apartment still made her blood run cold, despite months of peace.

She opened the door, silently chiding herself. _The war is over, Peggy. Get a grip._

“Margaret Carter?” The telegram boy asked.

“Yes, that’s me.”

He shoved the paper in her face and ran off like he had a million other places to be, which he probably did.

The words “Transfer Notice”, and below them “New York Office” made her smile. Finally, after months of waiting for her enforced grieving period to end, she could get back to real work.

_I’ve got to tell Dugan._ She thought. _The Howlies will want one more night out before I go. Tell stories and get drunk one last time._ One last time to gather together to mourn, for a moment, two of the best men any of them had ever known.

 

4.

**1948**

The call of “Telegram!” outside he door would never fail to make her jump, but this time Peggy only felt rueful, rather than irritated at herself. Daniel was in the other room, and as far as she was aware, the Howlies and Howard were both in New York.

She claimed the Telegram from the boy and closed the door. For the second time in her life, she found the words “Camp Lehigh” on one of the crisp little telegram sheets. This time she greeted it with much more enthusiasm.

“Daniel, I’m going to New Jersey for a bit!”

He stuck his head in the room. “What?”

She held out the paper, letting her mouth spread into a grin. “Our little project went through. I’m joining Colonel Phillips at S.H.I.E.L.D.”

 

5.

**1991**

Peggy was standing over her desk, holding a ream of papers in one hand and a sandwich in the other, when her secretary Ned pushed open the door to her office. “Director Carter, Do you have a moment?”

Actually, Peggy was very much busy, but something about Ned’s demeanor reminded her of a telegram boy in a fancy car way back in 1941, so with some trepidation, she put down the sandwich and replied. “Of course.”

She wondered what the bad news would be. An agent lost, or perhaps the Red Room op was compromised.

Instead, the Ned looked down at his feet. “It’s- I’m afraid It’s Mr. Stark. He and Maria were in an accident last night.” Ned met her eyes. “They’re both dead.”

Peggy dropped her papers.

Oh god no.

_Howard_.

 

+1.

**2016**

Steve’s phone dinged in his pocket. Tuning out the debate-turned-argument around him, he pulled it out, tapping the text icon.

_“She’s gone. In her sleep.”_

Steve stood abruptly and left the room.

Natasha found him a few minutes later in the stairwell. “Steve?”

He didn’t answer. He was scared that if he opened his mouth all that would come out were sobs.

Taking a look at his face, Natasha must have realized what happened. “Peggy?” she asked, softer this time.

He nodded. Natasha was the only other person in the building, aside from Sam, who knew how badly Peggy had been doing lately.

Natasha had never been the hugging type, but she put her hand on his arm and gave a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” He choked out.

They stood in silence for another minute before Steve managed to say, “You know what’s awful?”

Natasha didn’t say anything, but she hummed in question.

“I keep thinking about how I should be glad that I found out right away, but all I can think about is how I never thought I’d get news of a death via telegram again.”

“Oh, Steve.” Natasha did hug him then, and for the moment Steve forgot about the Accords, about Lagos, about the Avengers, and let himself mourn one of the best women he’d ever known.

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into Agent Carter fic. Probably not my last...
> 
> Inspired by a conversation I had with Frog about how notifying Steve via text was probably not the best way to go about it with a guy who had probably been notified of at least one of his parent's deaths via telegram (He would have been, like, five. if we go with one or both of them dying in WWI. how fucked up is that?) and lived in an era where a short, impersonal means of written communication was sometimes all families got. We're supposed to have moved passed this...


End file.
